Chapter 1

The world had become a graveyard of hope.

Cities that once gleamed with life now lay in ruin, their skyscrapers sagging like broken bones against an ashen sky. Fires burned unchecked, licking hungrily at abandoned streets littered with corpses and the wreckage of a war long lost. In the distance, screams echoed—brief, sharp, final.

Supervillains ruled now.

They spread like a plague, growing stronger, deadlier, until they had ground the last remnants of heroism beneath their boots. What remained of the once-mighty heroes skulked through the shadows, not as saviors but as prey, hunted down and snuffed out one by one.

A cracked television screen flickered amid the wreckage of a shattered home, broadcasting the dying breath of a news report. The anchor's voice trembled:

"The situation is—"

Static swallowed her words.

A villain's laughter echoed through the empty streets. Mayhem had taken the throne.

Somewhere in the ruins of a fallen metropolis, three battered heroes huddled in a rain-soaked alley. Their bodies bore the marks of countless battles lost—costumes in tatters, faces hollowed by exhaustion. The tallest of them, a wiry man clutching a bleeding wound on his arm, swallowed hard before whispering,

"They got Blaze yesterday. An A-rank. Ripped apart like nothing."

His companions stiffened.

A woman with flickering sparks at her fingertips shuddered. "I saw the footage. They laughed while they did it. We're next if we don't move."

Her sparks dimmed, flickering weakly against the rain as if even her powers had lost hope.

The third, a stocky man in a torn strength-enhancing suit, clenched his jaw. "We can't keep running."

Before he could say more, a shadow loomed at the alley's entrance.

A towering silhouette.

Jagged teeth caught the dim light as a low, rasping voice drawled,

"Found you."

The heroes scattered.

The woman barely made it three steps before something unseen yanked her back into the darkness.

A scream tore through the night.

Then—silence.

The remaining two heroes ran harder, the sound of their own pounding footsteps the only proof they were still alive.

Miles away, the once-proud headquarters of the Hero Association stood as a war zone.

Once a beacon of hope, its glass towers were now shattered husks, its sleek halls reduced to blood-streaked corridors where the final heroes fought desperately to survive.

In the ruined lobby, a small group of A- and S-class heroes stood back to back, battered and bloody, facing a swarming tide of villains.

Vindicator, an S-class powerhouse with silver hair and burning eyes, unleashed a searing energy blast, scorching the ceiling.

Beside her, a telekinetic A-rank hurled debris into the horde, every motion more sluggish than the last. His power was draining, and they all knew it.

A third hero—a hulking man with stone-like skin—grunted as a villain's acidic claws carved through his shoulder. He barely flinched, but the crack in his rocky flesh leaked red.

The villains closed in, a chaotic symphony of lightning, shadow, and fire.

A woman with molten claws cackled as she sliced through a fallen hero's shield like paper.

The heroes were legends once.

Now they were just prey.

The battle collapsed into a brutal endgame.

The telekinetic dropped to one knee, his powers spent. Vindicator's energy dimmed. The stone-skinned warrior struggled to rise.

They were cornered.

A sneering villain kicked Vindicator in the jaw, sending her sprawling.

"What's wrong, hero?" he mocked. "No pithy one-liner today?"

Another villain—a woman with glowing knives—plucked a fallen hero's severed gauntlet from the ground and juggled it playfully. "Look at you," she cooed. "So high and mighty once."

She drove the gauntlet's edge into the telekinetic's chest.

He gasped, blood bubbling at his lips.

His body slumped.

Another hero—gone.

Laughter rang through the crumbling lobby, echoing against the broken walls.

A brute with shadow-wreathed hands crouched beside Vindicator, smirking.

"Justice burns bright, huh?" he mocked, mimicking her old catchphrase. "Not anymore."

The heroes' legacy, once unshakable, was now a punchline.

The final blow came not from fists or blades, but from a device—a glowing bomb, planted at the heart of their last stand.

A villain with a wild grin patted it like a pet.

"Time for the grand finale!"

The remaining heroes could only watch, too broken to stop it.

The villains walked away, their laughter fading.

Then—

The world exploded.

Fire consumed the building, shattering steel, flesh, and history in one deafening roar.

The CCTV feed, still recording, trembled violently before cutting to black.

Another stronghold had fallen.

The villains' message was clear:

There was no one left to stop them.

Far from the blast, in a dimly lit control room, Elena Voss watched the last seconds of the massacre.

Her breath caught.

Her fingers curled into fists as she muttered a grim tally:

"27 buildings left… down from 498."

A year ago, the Hero Association had spanned the world. Now?

They were dying.

She had read the reports, seen the data. But watching it live—watching Vindicator, one of the greatest, fall like nothing—

Something inside her cracked.

Rage surged.

She slammed her fist into the wall.

The concrete shook. A faint pulse of her old power flickered through her veins.

She had been an S-class hero once. A warrior.

But now? She was stuck behind a screen, watching heroes die.

Before she could move, an alarm blared.

The screen flickered.

Her stomach dropped.

The Hero Association's global headquarters was under siege.

A horde of villains pressed against the outer barricades.

And worse—

Among them stood traitors.

Once-heroes, now monsters.

Titan, an S-rank giant who once saved cities, now grinned as he tore through defenses like paper.

Mirage, once a master of illusions, flickered in and out of sight, laughing.

One by one, the cameras cut to static.

Elena's breath came fast, her heart pounding.

This was it.

The last bastion of heroism was falling.

She turned to the emergency console, activating the final protocols.

Turrets whirred to life.

Energy shields hummed.

Drones buzzed into formation.

It wouldn't be enough.

She needed a miracle.

As the first explosions rocked the building, Elena's grip tightened.

She would fight.

And if she had to burn the whole place down with her, so be it.